


Another Way to Fix These Broken Things

by Gigglepud



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst-ish with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, M/M, Past established Relationship, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Time Travel, attempted murder of your past self, it's not that angsty really all the characters are just confused, meeting your past/future self, switching POVs, this is what happens when you let tony and strange lead ur winter soldier searches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigglepud/pseuds/Gigglepud
Summary: Steve should have known better. After the fall of shield and months of an unsuccessful search for the Winter Soldier, Tony claims he can help find Bucky with the assistance of a sorcerer friend.Yet, as it tends to happen when Tony tries some bizarre new tech, the Bucky Barnes Tony summons to Stark Towers was not quite the one any of them expected to find.





	Another Way to Fix These Broken Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amberdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberdreams/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Art to go with Another Way to Fix These Broken Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410628) by [Amberdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberdreams/pseuds/Amberdreams). 



> Written for the Captain America Reverse Big Bang. 
> 
> Many thanks to the mods for organising it! I wrote this story inspired by the amazing art by amberdreams, you can check it out in the 'inspired by' link! Also, a million thanks to KittenKakt for the beta!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! :)

_**Steve** _

This was a horrible idea. 

Why ever did Steve agree to this? He should have called it off the moment he stepped into Tony’s lab to find a man with a strange name, and even stranger cape and costume. Anyone who shared Tony’s taste in facial hair should not be trusted. 

But Steve felt exhausted. He couldn’t endure anymore missions with cold leads and dead ends. Never any sign of Bucky, but plenty of deserted bases and discarded equipment to rub in Steve’s face all the torture to which he had abandoned Bucky. Steve didn’t even know if Bucky was still out there somewhere, or if Hydra had recaptured him. 

He refused to consider the other alternative. His heart couldn’t take that. Not again. 

“So, walk me through this again?” Steve tried to keep the scepticism out of his voice. 

Last time a Stark pulled out all this fancy inexplicable equipment, Steve had come out of it with twice the size and strength. So it's within the realm of possibility this wouldn’t end in a complete disaster. 

“You just sit tight and think of your robot boyfriend, the Doctor and I will do the rest,” Tony gestures nonchalantly at the room at large. 

At the centre stood a metal octagonal frame, its height reaching a little taller than Tony. A disarray of cords and wires were attached to the frame, the other end connected to Tony’s laptop at the side of the room. The centre of the frame is empty, so Steve could see Dr. Strange settle into a seat on the other side of the contraption from him. 

Tony sat Steve down into a large cushioned chair, handing over what looks like a motorcycle helmet. It’s large and round, made of some light metal, fitting over Steve’s head neatly, with a shaded visor dropping down over Steve’s face. 

Steve kept his eyes on Stark with his peripheral vision as Stark walked over to the laptops. 

“You ready, Capsicle?”

Steve took a long breath. “Do it.”

Tony nodded. “Alright. Just keep thinking about your boy, concentrate on imagining him here. We’ll handle the rest.”

When Steve closed his eyes, he pictured the Winter Soldier first, the blank expression staring back at him on the helicarrier. Then, his expression morphed into a mix of confusion and aggression, the widened eyes that were last thing Steve remembered from before he fell. 

The last time he ever saw Bucky. Eight months ago. 

He’d read Natasha's file cover to cover more than he could count. But, he’d exhausted all his leads now. One more day apart is one more day where Bucky could be in trouble and Steve wouldn’t even know it. 

How did it come to this? Like a sick cosmic joke when he woke up 3 years ago but it was already 70 years too late, and the world was all wrong, wrong, wrong. What is a world that didn’t understand the significance of Bucky Barnes? How could no one understand how much they’re missing out without Bucky’s steady presence, a sturdy weight in the form of an arm over one’s shoulder, the charming dulcet with a good joke and warm laugh to fill in the lonely air? 

And when was the last time he heard Bucky laugh like that; a genuine one? Not since he shipped out, probably. 

Steve’s heart ached. He didn’t regret becoming Captain America; would never change that for anything. But in the early hours of darker nights, Steve missed the simpler days; missed Bucky. 

A loud fizz broke Steve from his thoughts, then the giant machine in front of him buzzed to life. It glowed as a green energy emitted from the Doctor's hands flowed into the metal frames. 

Steve rearranged himself to sit up taller, turning to Tony with widened eyes. “What’s going on?”

Tony didn’t have time to respond before the engine blew out with a bang, smoke roaring up from the frame as the buzz of electricity dwindled into silence. 

“Tony?”

Tony ignored Steve with frenzied murmuring to Jarvis. Steve turned towards Strange for answers instead, though he was still mostly obscured behind the smoke. 

Steve squinted, trying to look beyond the smoke. His heartbeat rapidly increasing as he noted the distinct human shadow from within the metal frames. 

The smoke began to clear. Steve stared at the mop of brown hair, short and styled, above the smoke and froze. 

* * *

_**Bucky** _

Bucky opened his eyes to bright lights and smoke, the fading buzz of electricity like the damn kitchen light they can’t afford to fix.

But it had been months since he’d last seen his apartment. He’s— where? He squinted, trying to identify his surroundings as the smoke clears. There were a lot of sleek machinery in the room; more polished than what he was used to. It was reminiscent of exhibits he’d expect to see in stark exhibits.

He blinked, mind muddled like when he first wakes up, chasing fragments from the night before to work out where he is and what day it is. Except, he clearly remembered being roused awake that morning, the long hours of drills and exercises in camp as they waited for their next orders. This, though, was clearly not the Europe war camps.

But as the smoke cleared to reveal Steve standing across the room, all thought rushes from his mind to make room for relief.

“Steve!” He rushed forward to reach his friend, but stops abruptly to look upwards at Steve towering over him. “Steve?” He repeated, voice much higher pitched. 

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice — and it was definitely Steve’s voice, Bucky wouldn’t forget it even if it had been months since he’d last seen Steve — sounded equally shocked.

Bucky narrowed his eyes as he inspected this new version of Steve. Then, stepping away, he turned to take in the rest of the room. There were lots of screens and machines, sleek and too-clean, a fresh look foreign to eyes used to the muddy fields and the dark palettes at base.

He spared quick glances at the other people in the room – dressed even weirder than Steve, one in some costume like he’s from Broadway and the other in a sleek suit, but with red steel plates around his arms.

They were on the other side of the room, so Bucky didn’t want to pay them any mind. He turned his attention back to Steve, who was somehow looking at him with wide puppy eyes. How long had it been since he’d seen those? The rare moments when Steve clearly wanted something, but didn’t want to admit it.

That expression was all Steve. This man, in all the ways that mattered, was still clearly the man he’d met as a child then fell in love with at sixteen.

“What the hell happened to you?” Bucky demanded.

Steve seemed to deflate. “It’s a long story,” he said wearily.

Steve led Bucky to a small room at the back, with a couch and a kitchenette. He stared in wonder at the different devices on the counter, all controlled by simply tapping on a screen.

When Steve sat him down to explain, it wasn’t long as much as it was complicated. Steve would start and stop, brushing over details and skipping parts, recounting from meeting Erskine to driving the plane into the ocean. It was like a story from one of Bucky’s science fiction paperbacks, but there was too much pain and sincerity in Steve's eyes for it to be anything but the truth.

“But what was it you were trying to do? How did I get here?”

Steve looked away, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure Tony is trying to do his best to send you back.”

Bucky looked at the way Steve seemed to shrink in the seat and how his body was rigid with tension. He remembered those puppy-like eyes, and understood suddenly what it was Steve wanted. He slid up to sit right next to Steve, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to deal with all of this without me. If I could be here with you, I would.”

Bucky felt Steve stiffen in his arms. He pulled back in concern to check Steve's expression, but he only wore a blank expression.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Steve, “What aren’t you telling me?”

It took further prodding and nagging before Steve gave in. He sighed, massaging his temples. Bucky had even felt victorious for a moment, glad that this Steve could still succumb to Bucky’s wiles. But then Steve told him about his own future and he felt sick.

He couldn’t come up with a proper reply, until Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry ,I shouldn’t have dropped all of this on you. It’s not for you to worry about — come on, won’t you let me take you out and show you the city?”

Bucky nodded. Only because he had no idea how else to react.

* * *

_**Barnes** _

It was stupid how Steve Rogers stopped paying attention to his surroundings when Bucky Barnes was around. 

The Winter Soldier could be walking two steps behind, yet they still failed to notice anything. This was the elite team that saved the world in World War II? 

Barnes narrowed his eyes at the shorter of the two men, hair slicked back, in a shirt and jacket that was slightly too big. No, he absolutely would not have trusted this man to watch Steve Rogers’s back. 

The Bucky Barnes in front of him buzzed with anxiety, shoulders stiff and his gait stilted as he awkwardly pushed past the New York traffic. He jumped at every loud noise, his head turning to the direction of every bright flash. 

The Winter Soldier watched, shadowing the pair of men walk with their shoulders brushing. Steve no longer twitches every few steps; no longer turn his head at every corner as if hoping to find anyone there. 

At least, the dropped vigilance made it much easier to follow him. 

The Winter Soldier had done a lot of that. In the first few weeks following the Helicarrier crash, it was easier to ignore the screaming in his brain when there was a task he could accomplish. There was little he could learn from the Captain – not unless he made contact, but that wasn’t something the Winter Soldier had been willing to risk his security for. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes from the man. 

It had been comfort, in some twisted way, to watch the man go about his day, and the Soldier could ignore the screaming in his head as he repurposed his existence to studying his target. 

He didn’t understand what he saw, back when the Captain would spend his days pouring over documents and files on his friend’s kitchen table, the determined frown stuck on Steve Rogers’s face for days before it quivered and gave way to weariness in the dark when his friend had left him alone to sulk in the early hours. 

It took until Barnes began to find himself to finally understand what ‘Steve Rogers’ and “You are my friend” really meant. When his growing curiosity led him to the Smithsonian and his own face stared hauntingly back at him. 

His memories didn’t come back all at once; the ocean after a storm always has a weaker current, waves drifting slowly back and forth, uncertain if it would ever reach the shore at all. But deep in his heart, he knew of two broken promises – one to Steve that he’d stay with him, always. And one to himself when he was seventeen watching the blonde boy tucked in on his knees at the other end of the couch, brows furrowed as he sketched rapidly, a small smile of satisfaction tucked the edge of his lips. And Bucky had sworn, then, that he would never let that smile disappear. 

The sinking horror of all that he’d done, the blood on his hands that would only smear on Steve if he let Barnes close. So the second thing he figures is that he needs to leave. 

For months, it’d been okay, focusing only on eliminating the rest of Hydra and destroying their bases. Forgetting about Steve – or at least, pushing him from the forefront of his mind. He had a good rhythm going, and it felt nice, to learn what it meant to be in control, and make decisions like where he would go next or just what he would eat that night.

When he felt the tug, it was late at night near the border of Italy. It couldn’t have been long, but something lit inside his body, burning. He dropped and rolled, but the sensation only increased as every particle in his body seemed to be screaming, and it was a metaphysical force that was pulling at him. Not to a specific direction, but he felt, instinctively, what was calling him. 

Steve. 

The pain left as quickly as it came, the next moment it was like nothing had happened. In the temporary shelter of the deserted shed, there was no one to witness the onset of agony and there was no physical mark left behind.

For all Barnes knew, it could have been a momentary hallucination sent from his broken mind, or a new sign of prolonged hunger he hadn’t been aware of. However, he had never been able to deny the wishes of Steve, even if it’s a Steve from his own imagination. 

What he didn’t expect, is for a James Buchanan Barnes to already be in New York when he arrived. Barnes felt his blood run cold. His whole body trembled from where he’d ducked behind a lamppost across the street from Steve, watching where his companion walked nervously alongside Steve. 

Seeing that man sends the same panic Barnes get whenever he sees a reflection of himself; a familiar face that doesn’t feel as if it entirely belongs to him. What if that itch beneath his skin was true along; was he truly an imposter?

If that was James Buchanan Barnes - and he had to be, for Steve to wear that soft tender expression on his face — then what did that make him? Truly, a monster that was born and fostered by Hydra, a weapon that no longer has use? 

It would just be like Hydra to manipulate him into a false role, wouldn’t it? But the Winter Soldier was trained to consider all possibilities, so he wouldn’t discount the potential for  Steve’s Bucky to be the one that was the imposter. 

Part of Barnes wanted to let it go. If he’s not the real Bucky Barnes like he thought, it means he didn’t betray Steve Rogers, right? He can put all of that behind him, a failed mission to forget. 

He already left Steve Rogers once, he didn’t deserve to go crawling back to his side like some loyal guard dog anymore. Yet, the nagging in his mind wouldn’t go away and before Barnes could properly consider, he found himself moving across the street to Steve. 

When Barnes finally caught up in the streets, Steve was saying: “… It’s confusing, I know. I’ve been there.” 

Barnes’ face contorted into a distasteful expression at the two of them. Barnes couldn’t help but feel a slight concern for the country’s information security when Steve and his Bucky talk openly in the middle of the streets of New York, but none of the New York civilians pay any attention as they rush by.

Steve’s Bucky turned his face to Steve, so Barnes could see his scowl in profile. “Doesn’t look it. You got that stupid grin on your face that suggests you’re enjoying this.” 

Steve chuckled. “I’ve had enough time to adjust, but back when I first woke up, it was way worse. I didn’t have anyone to show me around.” 

It somehow dampened the mood, creating an uneasy lull in the conversation before Steve’s Bucky mumbled, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help you.” 

“It's fine, you’re here now.” 

The Soldier leaned closer, brows furrowed. Okay, but how? Where did this Bucky come from? Why now? What did he want? But they don’t delve into the details as they continue leisurely down the New York streets, seemingly with no particular direction in mind. 

Suddenly, Bucky visibly perked up. He glanced around with his nose in the air, “What’s that smell?” 

Barnes followed their gaze towards the shop with the green walls around large glass windows, revealing a large café milling with people. Drifting out from the open door was a soft jazz beat and the aroma of coffee— if Bucky hadn’t pointed it out, the Soldier wouldn’t have noticed at all. 

“Ah,” Steve’s expression cleared. “Starbucks.” 

Barnes followed them in, taking a seat two tables from them, head down and staring at the beverage he randomly ordered for the sake of blending in. 

It was easy to pick out their voices from the murmur in the room. Barnes was about to lose concentration just from how politely mundane the conversation was, but then Steve started talking about the past. 

At this turn of conversation, Steve’s Bucky seemed to relax, sitting more comfortably in his chair, while Steve’s face lit up. It made Bucky’s stomach stir to see Steve like this, the feeling of being an outsider gripping Bucky like how sweat-soaked shirts cling to one’s body. 

It felt like vertigo to hear them talk, especially Steve’s Bucky. You could doubt the visual similarities between the scrupulous Bucky and the dishevelled Winter Soldier, with his long mangy hair and beard, but that voice - it sounded exactly the same. Still, the Winter Soldier was trained to suffer through the most disorienting experiences, so he managed to piece together enough of the conversation to form sufficient conclusions. It was an even weirder feeling to realise Steve’s Bucky was him. That this young man, was exactly who the Winter Soldier had been trying to remember, and recover. 

“Well, then at the end of the week, you can go back to your time,” Steve promised, his voice surprisingly subdued. “I’ll see to it that you do, so that you can return to the right Steve. He needed you by his side, you know? A lot of things would have been different without you.” 

It took a while for Barnes to process those words. When he did, Barnes felt a chill settle onto him. Like the mist lifting from his eyes, he knew what he had to do. A lot of things would have been different. What wouldn’t Barnes give to have a chance to let things unfold differently. 

When Steve’s Bucky got up for the bathroom, Barnes seized his chance. Keeping his head low, he waited around the corner in the corridor right outside the bathroom entrance. 

It was like being sent on a mission again, his mind clear with a single, straightforward purpose. The calmness in his brain was almost eerie, but part of the focus meant he didn’t think on it as he waited for Bucky to walk past him. 

Then immediately, he reached for Bucky’s face, clamming over his mouth as he wrapped his other arm around his torso. Yes, this was clearly a Bucky Barnes of the past, not completely bare of muscle, but he simply can’t compare to the Winter Soldier's trained body. 

Bucky’s struggles were too weak against the Winter Soldier’s metal-armed grip. Barnes quickly stepped further into the back, just in case of catching anyone’s stray attention. It’s a poorly done mission, for Barnes not to have scouted the place before entering or deciding to do anything, but thankfully, there’s a staff door at the very back of the hallway, and Barnes easily extracted himself into the alleyway.

* * *

_**Barnes** _

As soon as he left the café, he knocked out his captive to prevent him from drawing attention or fighting back. The Winter Soldier looked back and forth between the two ends of the alleyway, the adrenaline rush slowly seeping away. 

In the past, completing missions meant returning to his Handlers; they’d take care of everything else. He didn’t need to worry about extractions beyond the location of rendezvous. Everything was planned out for him. 

Which, in that case, he considers this mission quite well done, when you take that into account. 

If only that wasn’t the only triumph in this situation.

Wrapping the limp Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, he pushed Bucky’s head to lean against his shoulder. Hoping no one would look down to realise just how little Steve's Bucky was pulling his weight, he somehow carried Bucky away from the busiest streets of Manhattan.  

He ended up in the warehouse district of the city instead, finding an empty warehouse to break into. Finding a roll of duct tape lying around, Barnes quickly tied Steve’s Bucky’s hands and feet together, then left him in a corner of the warehouse. 

Barnes took a step back, arms propped on hips as he assessed his handiwork. Great. He’d gotten his hands on the young Bucky Barnes. Did he have the power to influence how the past will occur?… But, now what? 

Instead of thinking too much about it, he went back to the scene of his crime. It was getting uncomfortable, staring at his own face while it stayed unconscious. 

He knew not to walk straight back into the café, but he wanted to find Steve. Consequently, he stayed across the street, trying to follow the commotion despite a growing crowd surrounding the building.

Steve had discarded his hat and glasses to run a hand through his messed blonde hair. He was gesturing frantically at his table, then at the bathroom, while multiple staff tried to placate him. Whatever they said, it didn’t help. 

Barnes bit his lip as he watched the scene continue to unfold, Steve disappearing behind the hallway to the bathroom, then reappearing looking even more distressed. Barnes' stomach felt like lead. Steve was upset because of him. Again. 

Barnes should have just left, seeing the two of them enjoying their… outing? — date? It should have been enough. It was none of Barnes’ businesses; it shouldn’t have mattered whether or not Barnes was real or a clone of Steve’s Bucky. He was no good for Steve — he needed to stay away regardless.

Was this not proof enough? He hadn’t been back for half a day and now Steve looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. It was as if he only existed to cause more trouble for Steve Rogers. 

Barnes’ own distress at the thought must have been apparent. Distracted by the dawning realisation of his bad influence, he didn’t notice Steve walk out the café. When he looked, Steve caught the motion immediately, turning with widened eyes to face Barnes directly. 

The Winter Soldier lets out an audible growl of frustration, then immediately took off. Thankfully, even Captain America is not exempt from the dangers of New York City traffic and Barnes gets a head start while Steve attempts to cross the street. 

On the run, Bucky takes a few detours to elude the busiest streets of New York, taking the roads with the least likely chance of surveillance. It gave him some time to think as he took a few extra turns. 

What the hell was he doing? Was he incapable of not making a mistake at every turn and hurting Steve Rogers more and more? 

When he returned to the warehouse, his younger self was already awake. He’d shifted from where the Winter Soldier dropped him to sit upright and leaning against the wall. Steve’s Bucky stiffened when Barnes walked in, every step amplified in the large empty space. 

The young Bucky flinched when he looked up, recognition in his eyes as he paled. From the way he tilted his chin up defiantly, though his Adam’s apple wobbled, Steve must have filled Bucky in about the Winter Soldier. Bucky didn’t struggle, only glared unflinchingly at the man who shares his face, but — in the Winter Soldier’s opinion — little else. 

“You’re pathetic.” 

The Winter Soldier blurted. His voice was hoarse from disuse and the sudden outburst surprised even himself, but he was disinclined to take it back. The words felt good, like something lifted from his chest, to face this alternate version of himself and blame him for all of James Buchanan Barnes’s failures. 

“You’re just a monster. Of death, and destruction. All you ever do is ruin things. All we ever do is ruin things.” Barnes continued, pulling out a knife to point at his captive. The young Bucky drew a breath, bringing a grim satisfaction to Barnes. “Do you know how much trouble would be avoided if you were never to exist?” 

That would solve everything, wouldn’t it? If the young Sergeant Barnes hadn’t been so stupid and pathetic as to fall of the train. Steve, he wouldn’t be so emotionally vulnerable in the middle of a war zone so as to throw away his life on impulse, and the Winter Soldier wouldn’t have to exist at all. 

If Sergeant Barnes disappeared from history, he wouldn’t have to endure all this agony in his head at all. The decision, when set out like that, is so simple. 

* * *

_**Bucky** _

Bucky’s heart was pounding so rapidly he half expected to die first from apoplexy. He hadn’t been prepared to suddenly appear in the future, but this— to come face to face with his future self, who wants to kill him — well, this was another level altogether. 

He watched his other self’s outburst without a word. Why hadn’t any of his Basic training included  de-escalation of conflict with your future self? Considering how this happened before he even saw a glimpse of war, this was a huge oversight on their part. 

How did it get to this? 

He swallowed. This other Bucky Barnes was hard to look at, not just the rundown look he bore of someone who was clearly not looking after himself, but also the overwhelming pain in those eyes. 

Steve, too, for all that he had tried to put on a happy face — for all that he had been genuinely pleased to see Bucky — was clearly not without his own emotional scars as well. 

There had been blatant topics Steve wasn’t willing to talk about, things he avoided and changed the subject from. Bucky had thought it was weird - that Steve needed weird machinery to try summon Bucky to him? In what kind of world would Bucky deliberately choose to run away from Steve?

What if this older Bucky had a point?

“No wait, hold up, hold up, hold up,” Bucky tried putting on his best smile, the one usually reserved for the sweet dames he thinks Steve would get along with. “Maybe we can talk about this.” 

The Winter Soldier’s brow furrowed, seeming to increase the depth of his eyes. He didn’t reply, but neither did he stab Bucky, which Bucky counted as a good sign. 

Bucky took a deep breath, holding his bound hands in front of him as if he was calming a wild animal. “You’re… James Buchanan Barnes? You’re me, aren’t you. If you kill me, won't it kill you too?” 

The Winter Soldier narrowed his eyes, his knife tilting upwards again. “Yes.” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Bucky’s back pushed against the wall. “Maybe you can reconsider?” 

“No.”

“Let’s talk about this,” Bucky wet his lips, “Whatever you think you’re solving by doing this, I promise there’s a better way! I’m not sure killing me can erase your pain.”

The Winter Soldier shook his head, strands of his hair parting to show a familiar face, aged not only by the lines on his face and the beard, but also in the clear blue eyes that seemed to have lived centuries. 

“But it will stop you from hurting Steve,” he grit out, voice hoarse from disuse. 

Bucky went cold. “Is this what it’s all about? Steve?” 

“You will hurt him, so much,” The Winter Soldier drops his knife, crowding in close. Bucky barely had the time to act before the Winter Soldier had him against the wall, his metal hand wrapped around his throat. 

Panic rose in his chest, it tightened his throat even further. 

“If you disappear, Steve can finally stop being so sad. You can’t betray him if you’re dead, and you can’t fuck everything up anymore.” 

“You’re just going to fuck it up again,” Bucky forced out between forced breaths. “You’re a coward if you think this is going to fix anything!” 

He grabbed the soldier’s metal hand, helplessly trying to wrestle his throat free. He couldn’t let The Winter Soldier do this anymore, “If you kill me — if you kill yourself — don’t pretend for a single moment that this will make Steve happy.” Bucky looked The Winter Soldier squarely in the eye. “Do it, then. But do it knowing you’re just running away.” 

The sensation of choking catches up to Bucky, his body flexing involuntarily as he lungs grasp for breath but fail to gain any. Yet, Bucky refuses to look away from the Winter Soldier.

Slowly, The Winter Soldier loosened the fingers around his neck. 

“He would be better off, if we never get the chance to hurt him.” The Winter Soldier stepped back, fingers twitching. 

Bucky looked at the Soldier, hunched shoulders and leaning into himself. Pity swelled in his stomach, recognising loneliness in the way the Soldier held himself. 

“He wouldn’t,” Bucky said softly. “He misses you so much, the best thing you can do right now is see him. You need to suck it up and go talk to him before you make any major decisions like this,” Bucky snapped. “Have you even— since you’ve, I don’t know, recovered your memories or whatever, have you even had a proper conversation with him?” 

At the Soldier's shake of his head, Bucky turned his head to the ceiling, trying to contain his disbelief and frustration. 

“Bucky— or, what do you want me to call you?” Bucky waves a hand dismissively. “Will you come back with me? To Steve? If there’s anything we can do to help you, I’m sure he will do anything for you. He—” Bucky hesitates, then pushes through his uncertainty. “He still loves you. I’m sure of it.” 

The Winter Soldier backed away further, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. 

“Bucky,” Bucky kept the waver from his tone. He tried not to think how weird it is to be calling his own name. “Just think on it, alright?”

The Winter Soldier flinched, then stilled. 

Bucky’s brain raced for what else he could say to convince the Winter Soldier to let him go. Though, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave without helping the Winter Soldier somehow. 

Suddenly, The Winter Soldier's gaze shot up towards his left. Bucky followed his gaze, but there was nothing but the plain walls of the warehouse. Yet, he must have noticed something, as he grabbed the fallen knife and dashed out the door, leaving Bucky on the floor. 

Alone again, Bucky finally let out the tension on his shoulders. Sighing in relief, he sat back down against the wall, leaning his head against it to stare up at the ceiling. 

He’d barely calmed his heart to a regular pace when the steel door slammed open. Bucky sat up, alert, then gasped with gratified joy when he recognised the figure at the door. 

Steve ran towards him, wrapping his huge muscled arms around Bucky. Bucky could feel all the dams to his emotions breaking inside him as he leaned into Steve’s chest, letting Steve’s familiar scent comfort him. 

“Are you alright, did he hurt you?” Steve asked when he pulled away, keeping his hands on Bucky’s shoulders as he looked him over. “Come on, let's get out of here.” 

Steve cuts Bucky free from the tape, pausing to look over the red marks on his wrists and ankles, before helping Bucky up. “Can you run?” 

Steve pulled Bucky towards him, wrapping Bucky’s arm around his broad shoulders to share the weight. As they left the warehouse, Bucky hesitated, pushing Steve off him as he stopped right outside the entrance. 

“Did you cause that distraction? To lure… uh… the other me- away?” 

“Yeah,” Steve pulled away, a slightly awkward expression on his face. “I’m sorry for hiding the truth about the Winter Soldier from you.” 

Bucky looked towards the direction the Winter Soldier must have gone. “No, you made an attempt to hide the truth — but let’s face it, you’re a shit liar.” 

Steve ducked his head, scratching the back of it. “Hey, I’m a great liar. Just ask anyone else, you and maybe Nat are the only one who ever catches me out. But come on, let’s go before he comes back.” 

Bucky baulked at the thought. His feet weighed down on him, like they are rooted to the ground. 

“And then? What about him?” 

Steve took Bucky’s hand, squeezing tight. “Don’t worry about it. I promise, we’ll find a way to make sure you won’t have to endure any of that when you go back in time. I’ll talk to Dr Strange about it.” 

Bucky shook his head emphatically. “No, but what about him? Are you just going to leave him out there like this? Just— what? Rely on changing the past and pretend none of this happened?” 

Steve tilted his head, puzzled. “Don’t you want that?” 

“I want you to help me,” Bucky croaked out. “If that’s what I become… I’m going to need you to be there. And I won’t demand that of you, but I can tell you from what I can tell I’m going to need it — Whoever— or whatever — I become, it's still me, so if you want to help me, help him.” 

Steve expression stiffened. “I want to help you prevent this from happening!” 

Bucky closed his eyes, “Steve, you’re talking about changing the past here. Do you even know if that will work? At what cost? This world looks pretty cool, Steve, and you don’t know what changing the past might do. And what if it doesn’t work? Is it really alright for you to bank it all on, what? something that you don’t even know is possible? And all the while you let the other Bucky run around on his own, so insecure he’d rather erase himself from existence in fear of hurting you?“ 

Steve swallowed, visibly knocked off balance from this information. 

He looked away, “I thought…” He shakes his head slightly, looking back up at Bucky. “I’m sorry. I wanted to save you from the fate of the Winter Soldier if I could, but I shouldn’t be looking at the past anymore, should I? I don’t hope to understand what you will go through in the future, but I promise, I don’t want to abandon you, and it’s never my intention.” 

Bucky stared at those fierce blue eyes, and he could almost feel jealous of this 21st century’s Bucky to get that… If Steve stuck around. 

“I talked to him, you know? I think right now, he just needs someone to tell him they care,” Bucky said softly. “He’s not doing so bad, but I don’t think he has the sense to  realise that.” 

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand, “If you’re not hurt, you don’t mind if I take a detour first, do you?” 

Bucky shook his head emphatically. “Please, do.” 

* * *

_**Barnes** _

The redhead retreated 

That went against everything he knew about her. He prepared for a trap, getting onto the roof of the nearby building for better sight lines.

It came together when he looked towards the warehouse. Steve Rogers and his Bucky were both coming towards his direction. He considered his options for a moment, looking towards the roofs in the other direction. 

Yet, when he started to move, he made the split decision to jump down the fire escape instead. In a few easy leaps, he dropped down right in front of Steve and Bucky. 

He pursed his lips, tightening his grip on the knife. 

Immediately, Steve lifted both hands up. Though he had no weapon, his body was clearly poised for an attack, his feet apart in a defensive  position. Barnes flicked his gaze to Steve’s Bucky, half a step behind Steve. This Bucky, untouched yet by the long years with Hydra, wore his emotion plain on his face.

Yet, Barnes wasn’t sure he had the ability to decipher emotions anymore. He stared quizzically at the way Bucky kept indicating with his head at Steve. Barnes’s gaze followed the motion back to Steve, whom still stood rigid. 

Barnes put away his knife, and was rewarded with the slight release in tension in Steve’s shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Barnes clarified hesitantly. Then, as an afterthought, adds, “Anymore.” 

Steve dropped his arms, eyes widening. He stepped closer without seeming to realise he’s moving at all, until he was within reaching distance. 

“Oh, Buck,” he said softly. “Is that what you’re worried about? Hurting me?” 

Barnes shook his head, but then, at Steve’s persistent gaze, reluctantly nodded. 

“That’s okay, Bucky can I hug you?” Steve waited until Barnes nodded, before reaching forward. “You won’t, you can’t. Come back to me, Buck.”

Yet, at the thought of going back with Steve, it sent spikes of adrenaline and fear up Bucky’s spine. He pulled away, eyes widening at the idea. “I hurt you.” 

Steve was silent for a long time, then he lowered his head. “You don’t have to come back with me, Bucky, if you don’t want to.” Steve looked back up, straight into his eyes. “But I want you to come back with me. I don’t blame you for anything that happened back on the helicarrier and with Hydra. I’m not angry at you, Buck. I just want you back, I miss you so much, won’t you come back with me? Whatever you need, whatever I can do to help you, let me do that.” 

Steve’s Bucky’s words echoed in his head, and nervously, Barnes reaches out, taking Steve’s hand. “Y-you still love me?” 

“God, of course. I do, Buck. Without a doubt.” 

Barnes wasn’t sure what he expected when Steve leaned in, but it definitely was not the wave of emotion that swept over him as Steve kissed him. His body folds easily into Steve’s, and he can’t quite shake the sensation that this all is familiar to him. 

When Steve breaks for breath, forehead to forehead, he whispers against Barnes’ lips, “Come home with me.”

“Okay.”  

* * *

_**Epilogue** _

Bucky looked up when Dr. Strange entered the room. Bucky was lounging on the couch, a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket over his shoulders. 

It was all the comfort Bucky allowed Steve to spoil him with before shooing him into another room to properly talk things out with the other Bucky properly. Steve probably wouldn’t want to talk about the details with the younger Bucky in the room. 

“Steve is hoping you can somehow help preserve my memories when you send me back,” Bucky sid without looking toward Dr. Strange, tone overly casual. 

Dr Strange didn’t reply, and after a long pause, nodded for Bucky to continue. “And what do you think?” 

“I think,” Bucky answered slowly, turning to see the mild expression on Dr. Strange. “That it doesn’t matter what Steve or I think. You’ve already made up your mind about what’s right.” 

Strange revealed a hint of a smile. “You’re astute, I’ll give you that. But I’m not the only one here who has their mind made up.” 

Bucky nodded, looking down at his hands. “I don’t want this pressure. I don’t know what changing anything will do and I’m not sure if I’ll even succeed.”

“You’d rather let history play out as it has?” 

He looked towards the direction Steve and the Soldier had been heading towards. “It'll all turn out alright in the end, don’t you think?.” 

Dr Strange followed Bucky’s gaze. “Yes,” he says at length. “I think so too.” 

Bucky nodded, bringing his hot chocolate to his lips. “That’s good enough for me.” 

He took a large gulp, enjoying the better-tasting beverages of the 21st century while he still could. He smiled. 


End file.
